


John.lib

by NeonPistachio



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Fix it?, Gen, Kinda spoilers if I tag anything?, M/M, Mini Fic, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonPistachio/pseuds/NeonPistachio
Summary: Harold knows the importance of saving your work.
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	John.lib

Harold watches as the monitors flicker, lines twitching even as the body in the bed remains outwardly unchanged. He leans forward a little. ‘Hello, John,’ he says quietly, words just audible above the hospital sounds around them.

John’s eyelids flutter, opening slowly, and Harold watches as his eyes struggle to focus. ‘You’re safe,’ he assures John. ‘Rest.’

John watches him for a few more seconds, before his mouth quirks into something approaching a smile and his eyes slide shut. The monitors flicker again, telling the truth about his return to unconsciousness. 

Harold stands and moves round the bed, making a few adjustments, before walking out of the sterile room. It will be a while before John wakes again. 

*

The next time John wakes, Harold is there, and John manages to sip some water and smile properly before he slips back into sleep. The time after that, he reaches out to squeeze Harold’s hand, falling asleep still holding it. Two days after that, John can finally speak. ‘What happened?’ he asks first. ‘The Machine...’

‘We won,’ Harold tells him. ‘Samaritan is gone. You were… hurt taking out the last copy. You’ve been recovering for a while.’

John gazes at him, eyes soft. ‘We’re safe?’

‘Yes,’ Harold says, taking his hand. ‘You should rest,’ he tells John, and John settles again, closing his eyes. A frown flickers briefly across his face.

‘I don’t remember what happened.’

‘It’ll come back to you,’ Harold lies, and John nods trustingly and slips back into sleep. 

*

Harold checks the monitors to be certain John’s truly sleeping, then carefully slips a sedative into his IV. He switches off the speaker projecting the background noise of a hospital and steps out of the room. Standing in the space outside, he takes out his phone; there’s a private ambulance company he’s used in the past who won’t ask questions. He needs to get John out of here before he wakes up again.

The box of a sterile room, dwarfed by the size of the building that contains it, recedes behind him as he makes for the entrance to the facility. His footsteps echo off the rows and rows of pods, reaching far off into the distance, the occupants hanging in suspended animation, waiting to be needed. 

If there’s one thing a lifetime of computers has taught him, it’s to always keep a backup copy.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had the beginning of a outline for a 'Samaritan clones John' fic sitting on my computer for over a year, but I doubt I'll ever write it. Then suddenly at work - what if _Harold_ cloned John?


End file.
